Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow
by T'eyla Minh
Summary: FINAL CHAPTER NOW UP. A forgotten note, and a rainstorm. This is the first UB fic I've written. Will be D&B eventually.
1. Chapter One

**RAIN WILL MAKE THE FLOWERS GROW**

_**Summary:** A forgotten note, and a rainstorm.  
**Rating:** PG.  
**Setting / Spoilers:** Non-canon, one-off, but post-Sofiagate. Probably no spoilers because the US are ahead of me at this point.  
**Character / Pairing:** Daniel/Betty, sort of, eventually.  
**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Given I typed the majority of this at work, I don't even own the PC it was initially created on. :P  
**Notes:** Well, here it is: my first attempt at Ugly Betty fanfiction. This was inspired partly by sweetlilfighter's recent story, I'll Take the Sofa, and a torrential rainstorm here in Birmingham, UK, on Tuesday 15 May. I was in a rehearsal at the time in a room with a flat roof and big skylights, and the choir couldn't hear itself sing. Somehow, that inspired this...  
**Anything else?** For the purposes of storytelling, Daniel henceforth resides in a penthouse apartment. Also, I've never been to NY. Ever. My closest point of reference for the subway system is the London Underground and the Paris Metro. Please, bear that in mind. ;)_

**Rain Will Make The Flowers Grow**

It had been a very long day at _Mode_; making her way to the subway at nearly eight o'clock, in a light drizzle that threatened to turn into a downpour at any moment, Betty Suarez was finally going home for the night. It was nearly time for publication, so she and Daniel had been working on a few final touches late into the evening, so as to not to rush at the last minute. As the rain got heavier, she was glad to descend the steps to the station, and the familiar smell of diesel and recycled air filled her nostrils.

The train wasn't due for ten minutes, as reliable as it ever was. Betty sighed, then sat down on a platform bench and tried to look inconspicuous, which was no easy task in her powder blue padded coat. The station was mostly empty at this time, at least as far as outbound commuters were concerned. There was a drunk slumped by the exit, occasionally mumbling obscenities, and a young male skulking near the entrance wearing a baseball cap that partially obscured his face; Betty wasn't sure which one of them made her more uncomfortable.

Well, at least she wouldn't miss Justin's school play tomorrow. Daniel had already said that she could leave, if not early, then on time. Justin had been preparing for weeks and Betty was not prepared to disappoint him by turning up late, or not at all. Publishing day or not, she was leaving at five on the dot, and if there was anything else that needed doing, then... well, Amanda could make herself useful for once.

The stuffy air of the station was making Betty's nose start to itch. She fought down the urge to sneeze for a fair while, but it reached a point where she couldn't hold it in any more. She frantically searched through her bag and pockets for a tissue, but came up with nothing.

The sneeze escaped; she instinctively covered her face with one hand.

"Ew..." she muttered, glad, at least, that there was nobody around from _Mode_ to mock her for this latest unfashionable (not to mention disgusting) mishap. With her free hand, she continued rummaging in the depths of her handbag. Her fingers closed around a piece of paper and she pulled it out triumphantly, before stopping abruptly when she realised what it was.

Betty had nearly blown her nose on the notes for Daniel's meeting, taking place first thing the next morning. She must have accidentally picked them up when gathering her stuff earlier that evening.

With her right hand still covering most of her face, Betty quickly scanned her surroundings for anything she could use to blow her nose. A discarded paper napkin under the bench was the only thing she could find. Putting the meeting notes back into her bag, she muttered "Ew" again and leant over to grab the napkin.

After discarding it in a nearby, overflowing trashcan, Betty reached into her bag once more to re-examine the notes. They were extensive: an agenda, points of discussion... Daniel would need them back. More to the point, he would need them back now, so he could look over them before the meeting. She didn't want to run the risk of being late tomorrow and letting Daniel down.

Betty heaved a sigh, folded the notes, and once again put them back into her handbag. Rising from the bench, she started to make her way out of the station again. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard her delayed train pulling into the station.

"You'd better thank me for this, Daniel..."

_To be continued... _

**A/N:** Sorry it's so short, but I wanted to get this first part up to see what reaction it gets. I haven't written fanfic in a very, very long time (though not for want of trying) and am hence very out of practice. Feedback would be much appreciated.

PS: Anonymous reviews are switched off, unfortunately. If you are desperate to leave a comment or review, you can find my post relating to this fic at the danielbetty community on LiveJournal...


	2. Chapter Two

**RAIN WILL MAKE THE FLOWERS GROW**

_**Summary:**__Betty finally makes it to Daniel's apartment; things start to get interesting. _

_**Author's Notes:**__ Many thanks for all the comments on the first chapter; I'd forgotten that reviews are like drugs. ;) Anyway, there's actually some dialogue in this chapter, and it's longer than the last one. I'm not sure how good my characterisation is, so I'd appreciate some feedback on that. _

_I don't have much of a clear ending to this story as yet, although I have the middle of it pretty much sorted in my brain. I'm hoping an ending will make itself apparent the more I write. I'm going to try and keep on top of writing this and try not to let it die like most of my other fics. _

_Finally, I just want to clarify something about my not allowing anonymous reviews. I always used to accept them, but over the years I've had my review space used by anonymous cowards (by which I mean they didn't leave an email address) who only want to flame my story as a way to vent their own frustrations about characters or the fandom. Quite frankly, it's annoying. I'm well aware that the Internet is a good thing to hide behind; by all means, flame me, but at least own up to your opinion. _

_That being said, here's the next chapter._

**Rain Will Make The Flowers Grow**

Chapter Two

It was only a short walk to Daniel's apartment building, so Betty didn't mind too much having to walk. She would have been infinitely more irritated had she discovered the meeting notes on the train, or – God forbid – at home, because she knew that no matter how far she was from the city, she would have to make her way back there, for Daniel's sake. Really, the drizzle was a minor inconvenience.

And then, as if to mock her, the heavens opened. Betty covered her head pointlessly with her arms and broke into a run, but it was barely worth the effort – she was soaked within seconds. She held her bag close to her to try and keep the precious notes dry, and aimed for as many shop awnings as possible along the way to hide under. The effort was futile, however: a speeding cab saw great opportunity in her as a moving target, and deliberately careered through a deep puddle in the gutter, drenching her even more fully.

She stood there for a moment, shocked into temporary immobility and mentally delivering all the worst curses she knew at the retreating cab driver. At that point, the rain started to dwindle a little and a chilly wind kicked Betty into action again. The apartment building was only a couple of blocks away, and she started to squelch her way there in soggy shoes, by now feeling ever more convinced she shouldn't have bothered at all...

She passed the Meade Publications building, where the doorman tipped his hat with a smirk. Several lights were still on within its walls, including on the _MYW_ floor. Betty frowned a little in remembrance of what Sofia had done, and carried on.

She reached the apartment building and let herself in with the four-digit code on the door, without bothering to ring the buzzer for Daniel's apartment, and headed gratefully for the elevator, careful not to disturb the security guard snoozing at his reception desk. She dripped somewhat forlornly on the marble floor, trying to avoid her reflection in the mirrored walls, and waited patiently to reach Daniel's floor. Her glasses had steamed over, but she paid them no attention, listening instead to the dull intonation of the recorded voice as it listed floors.

The elevator came a smooth stop after a while, and the doors slid open noiselessly except for a soft 'ping'. Stepping out, Betty headed purposefully towards the apartment door – at least until she slipped on the parquet floor and landed on her backside. After struggling back to her feet, she played it safe and clung to the wall.

Betty only realised what a state she must have looked five seconds after she'd rung the doorbell and the door opened to reveal her boss, looking quite surprised to see her.

"Betty? Shouldn't you be at home?"

"My stupid train was late," she replied, redundantly. Daniel craned his neck to look down the corridor and smirked at the trail of wet footprints leading from the elevator. "Also," she added, "I thought you might need these."

She pulled the meeting notes from her handbag and waved them in Daniel's face with her very best 'the-things-I-do-for-you' expression. Daniel took the slightly damp paper from her and scanned it, a glimmer of recognition dawning on his face.

"Oh. Yes. Thank you. Um... this probably could have waited until..." He trailed off when Betty's expression darkened, and then added in a slightly strangled tone: "Would you like to come in?"

"Please..."

It was tempting to push past Daniel in her sodden coat and soak him in the process, but he gave her a wide berth, guessing her intention. He closed the door behind her and followed her through to the main room, where they both stood rather helplessly.

Daniel put the meeting notes down somewhere safe. He wasn't used to Betty being a guest in his home; normally she would let herself in. Betty struggled out of her padded coat, which was now carrying extra weight in the form of most of New York's rainfall, and Daniel moved over to take it off her. The coat was usually waterproof, but even the layers of quilting had succumbed to the downpour, and the pale blue lining was blotched with dark, wet patches.

"Thanks..." she said. Her indoor clothing wasn't too bad, Betty realised, but her hair was now starting to feel very uncomfortable indeed. Its usual thick mass was hanging heavily down her back, and it would need taming quickly before it turned into a halo of uncontrollable frizz. She was suddenly very thankful Hilda had talked her into carrying a hairbrush around with her, even though it had seemed a rather vain and pointless exercise at the time...

Daniel made his way back over to her. He waved his arm to indicate she should sit, and opened his mouth to say something.

"You-"

His words were obliterated by a sudden clattering above them as a noise like a machine gun sounded overhead. Betty started and covered her ears; Daniel gave up talking and laughed at her terrified expression.

"What the Hell is that?!" she shouted, struggling to speak over the racket.

Daniel cupped his ear. "What?"

Betty got the distinct impression he was mocking her. "I said, _what the Hell_" – the noise subsided again, as quickly as it began – "_is that?!_" Her yell resonated in the high-ceilinged room for a moment, and then Daniel smirked, amused.

"This is a penthouse apartment, Betty," he explained. "It has a flat roof. And judging by the state of you, I guess you already know it's raining out there."

She looked at him, slightly confused. "A penthouse?"

He nodded. "I thought you'd realised. I live on the top floor."

She shrugged. "Oh. I figured there was attic space." She gazed at the ceiling for a moment, concentrating, and realised that she could hear the rain even now, very quietly pattering on the roof. "Only the best for you, Daniel."

"Precisely," he said. "Anyway. As I was about to say, you really didn't have to come all the way over here just to drop the notes off. It could've waited until morning."

"I didn't want to risk it," she said. "I thought you'd want to be prepared; it's an important meeting tomorrow."

"To be honest," he admitted, "I was just going to relax tonight. I'm trying to keep _Mode_ at the office, and so should you."

It was at this point that Betty surveyed her surroundings more thoroughly and took stock of the DVDs lying on the couch, and the various bowls of snack foods on the table. Daniel had clearly been planning a night in front of the TV when she'd turned up on his doorstep.

"Oh, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asked, worried she might have disturbed his quiet night in. "Sorry, I guess I should've called first. Just, what with the weather and all..."

"It's okay, Betty. I'm glad you thought to come over."

She gave him a small smile. "No problem. But I really should be getting home. Dad'll be worried."

Daniel seemed quite appalled by the idea. "No. No, I can't let you go back out in the rain. It's almost Biblical out there."

"I'll be fine," she said, dismissively, moving over to get her coat. "Really. It's already stopping."

As if in reply, the clattering began again, though not so aggressively as before. Looking heavenward, Betty grimaced. "Doesn't that drive you crazy?"

"Actually," he said, "it can be quite relaxing."

She looked mildly incredulous. "I'll take your word for it..."

After a somewhat redundant pause, she made to move, to find Daniel in her way. "Please, Betty, I'd feel awful knowing I let you out again in this weather." He blocked her path to the front door. "At least stay until it holds off."

She sighed, but conceded. "Okay..."

Smiling, he ushered her back into the main body of the apartment. Looking over her bedraggled appearance a second time, he asked, "Do you want a towel or anything?"

"Actually, um..." She looked a little embarrassed to be asking him for anything. "I could do with some dry clothes..." Fearing he might refuse, she corrected herself: "But a towel would be good, too. A towel would be great..."

"Stay there," Daniel commanded. He disappeared into the bedroom and then reappeared moments later with some towels and a bathrobe, which he handed to her. "Here," he said. "The bathroom is through there. I'm afraid I don't have a bath, but feel free to use the shower..."

She looked at the towels and bathrobe; they were good quality, expensive. The robe was a deep, plush velvet, monogrammed with his initials. Judging by the way it was folded, she suspected it was once a gift and had never been worn. Taking a warm shower had never even entered her mind, but now the idea was planted, it sounded very tempting. She didn't want to outstay her welcome, however, and tried to hand back the items.

"Really, you don't have to do this..." she began. Her protests were futile, however: he was already ushering her bodily towards the door he'd pointed out.

"No arguing. Get." He gave her a final, gentle shove, and she turned to look at him.

"Thank you..." She gave him a grateful smile, then shut the door behind her.

_To be continued..._

_**A/N:**__ The next chapter is going to be mostly character introspection and currently, I hate it... but I'm going to try and fix the glitches and get it up as soon as I can, and then move onto a more interesting chapter afterwards. I hope this instalment was up to standard, anyway. Reviews are welcomed with cookies._


	3. Chapter Three

**RAIN WILL MAKE THE FLOWERS GROW**

_**Summary: **__Some introspection from both parties..._

_**A/N:**__ This chapter is solely internal monologue / introspection / call it what you will, so I apologise for the lack of dialogue. This was an unfortunately necessary chapter just to slow the pace of the story a little, and there will be more action in the next one, I promise._

_I'm also not __completely__ happy with this one, but... well, here it is. I'm two days behind when I wanted to get this up, so I thought I'd better just post it..._

_Enjoy!_

**Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow**

Chapter Three

Daniel stared at the closed bathroom door for entirely too long, until he heard the shower switch on and the running water within became indistinguishable from the patter of rainfall over his head. Eventually, once he was able to ignore the fact that his assistant was in his shower – under entirely innocent circumstances, but in there nonetheless – he found himself slightly more at ease.

He moved over to the couch and turned on the television, flicking channels absently without really paying much attention to what he was seeing. After a while, he stopped, throwing the control onto the coffee table in frustration. A group of lions were heartily ripping a gazelle to shreds on-screen; somehow, the bloody carnage was quite soothing.

His quiet night in had suddenly become very complicated. His intention had been to slowly work through the pile of movies sitting next to him until he fell asleep or until morning, whichever came first. It was the perfect night for it, too – the weather was so awful he had hoped to be completely undisturbed. But Betty's untimely yet thoughtful arrival had thrown him for a loop.

It wasn't that he didn't want her around – quite the contrary, in fact, as he was now plotting how to make her stay a little longer. It was just… just Betty…

Since walking into _Mode_ she had instantly turned his world upside down and then tidied it neatly up again, in one fell swoop. Whatever chaos was happening around her, she took it in her stride and kept her head high, and just got on with things. Daniel was ever more certain as the weeks went by that without Betty, he would be unemployed, broke, or worse. At the very least, _Mode_ would have fallen into Wilhelmina's clutches, and Daniel would have lost all hope of trying to gain his father's approval.

There was no denying that Betty made life a lot easier and more bearable at _Mode_. She seemed to believe Daniel was capable of anything, and that unfaltering belief kept him going, made _him_ believe it. He was sure that he could conquer the universe if Betty put it in his desk diary, and the thought made him smile as he visualised it. _Monday: 11.00am – staff meeting; 12.30pm – lunch; 2.00pm – conquer universe…_

She was something very special, his Betty. No… not _his_ Betty; she was her own person. She knew where she was going and how she was going to get there, and Daniel sometimes got the impression she was only dragging him along for the ride. He envisaged a future ten years away where their roles had somehow become reversed: Betty, editor-in-chief of a top magazine, and Daniel her assistant, bringing her coffee and a piece of cheesecake. It sounded far-fetched, and yet somehow he could believe it.

He tried to imagine a day at the office without Betty, and somehow, in his mind, the office seemed dark and dingy despite the white walls and garish lighting. Without that smile and those bright clothes it was a colourless expanse of fashion-conscious sheep, all of them bleating away mindlessly.

Unfortunately, none of this went anywhere near explaining why, since she'd turned up nearly half an hour ago, he was unable to think about anything else. He and Betty had socialised before as friends, rather than colleagues, but this felt different. Perhaps it was the element of surprise, or the fact that she'd traipsed all the way to his apartment in the pouring rain to give him something he didn't _really_ need so badly that it couldn't wait until morning…

He was suddenly overcome with the urge to give her an enormous hug. How demanding must he have been in the past, for her to automatically assume he'd want her to traipse to his home in a torrential downpour without a second thought? What kind of boss expected that? And yet, she had done it, without question, without reason, without ringing him to talk her out of it. Secretaries like Betty were gold dust in the professional world. He supposed, no matter what else his father may have done, that he had that one thing to thank him for…

On-screen, the pride, now sated, were lounging around in the African sun. The remains of the gazelle, torn asunder, stained the nearby ground: blood, bone and gristle lying in messy heaps. Daniel looked up, and it was at this point, rather randomly, that he realised he probably should have tidied up his bathroom…

db

Betty was so impressed by Daniel's bathroom that it took her a while to remember why she was in there. It was certainly very small, but clearly luxurious. The tiles were dark grey, most likely granite, the suite black, and the fittings aluminium, with subtle overhead lighting and a neat square of clouded glass cubes in the wall acting as a window. The effect was ruined somewhat by the mess: there were discarded towels on the floor, a close-to-overflowing laundry basket, and various different bottles all left open on the surfaces. Even the smart medicine cabinet was left open, its contents arranged messily on the shelves.

She shook her head exasperatedly. Never mind the office; Daniel needed a personal assistant for everything, by the looks of things.

It didn't surprise her at all to discover he had a power shower. Compared to the rain earlier, the warm water now cascading over her head felt wonderful, and she felt the stress and annoyance of the evening melting away. She talked herself in and out of stealing some shampoo six times before finally telling herself, firmly, that Daniel most definitely would not mind, and that if she _didn't_ use it, her hair would be even worse than before she'd stepped into the shower. In which case, using some shampoo would be doing Daniel a favour, because she didn't want to inflict her uncontrollable hair on anyone, much less the editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine…

Even so, halfway through rinsing it out again, she had decided not to tell him. Just in case.

The weirdness of the situation only occurred to her once she'd stepped out of the shower again and remembered where she was. She had fully intended to drop the notes off and then leave again straight afterwards, but her mouth had accepted Daniel's invitation into his apartment without her controlling it… and the warmth from within _had_ been so very alluring. Even after that, despite Daniel's really rather poor effort at stopping her from leaving, she'd stayed. He must have anticipated that she wouldn't refuse, otherwise he would surely have been more forceful – or perhaps even _he_ wasn't sure what he was doing.

Still, the hospitality was greatly appreciated, especially since Daniel had been planning a quiet night on his own. Betty was surprised by that; she had half-expected him to be out with yet another model, or else still working – he really didn't seem like the type to have a night on the couch with a movie. But then, he also hadn't seemed like the kind of person Betty knew he was.

As she wrapped her hair in a towel, Betty could still hear the rain outside, and dreaded having to leave the warmth and luxury of the apartment to go home. Her father had probably cooked something delicious for dinner, but it was still horrible outside and it seemed rather pointless to go out again and get soaked, just to arrive home cranky. The thought of her father's food – of any food, if she was honest – made her realise just how hungry she was. She'd only had a light lunch at work, not expecting to have stayed so late.

She put on the borrowed robe and practically sank into it. "Oh, wow…" she said out loud, pulling the gorgeous fabric tighter around herself. _I'll just stay a little while,_ she told herself. _Just until the rain stops. Then I'll go home…_

She retrieved her clothes from the place on the floor where she'd left them. Now that she was warm and dry, they seemed a lot damper than she'd remembered. She reached for the door handle – only _now_ realising that she hadn't locked the door – and prepared herself for what further weirdness the evening would provide…

_To be continued..._

_**A/N: **__There you have it. Sets the next chapter up, at least. Please R&R._


	4. Chapter Four

**RAIN WILL MAKE THE FLOWERS GROW**

**Summary: **Betty orders take-out...

**A/N:** I apologise for the delay but real life has gotten on top of me a bit. I'll try and get the next chapter out a little more regularly. This chapter has a little more action and dialogue and starts to set the scene a bit more. Hope you enjoy. :)

Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow

Chapter Four

Betty emerged from the bathroom about half an hour or so later, her hair wrapped in a towel and herself wrapped in the luxurious bathrobe. She clutched her bundled and damp workclothes in her arms, and stepped quietly out of the room, suddenly quite aware of the cloud of steam following her.

Daniel was watching television, apparently engrossed in some kind of nature documentary. He turned when he heard the door open.

"Better?"

She nodded. "Much better, thank you." She stood there nervously for a moment, making no further move, then said, "Um, my clothes were worse off than I thought. I don't suppose…" Betty's sentence disappeared into embarrassed presumption, but Daniel was already a step ahead of her.

"Wait there," he ordered, and then once again disappeared from the lounge. He returned with some neatly folded clothes. "Not very glamorous," he said, "but at least they're dry."

Betty took the proffered clothing: a grey t-shirt and some black sweatpants, and a pair of warm, thick socks. "Is there somewhere I can change?"

"There's a walk-in closet just through there," he said, pointing to where he'd come from.

She nodded gratefully and made her way to the closet. Just before she shut the door, she said, "No peeking."

Daniel couldn't think of a reply which wouldn't get him in trouble, so he said nothing. Betty's knowing smile before she vanished into the closet offered very little relief from his suddenly rambling thoughts, and he was incredibly grateful when she re-emerged, decent once more. The clothes were innocuous enough that he could ignore the fact they were his own.

"Ta-da!" Betty performed a small self-conscious flourish, then stooped to pick up her work clothes from the floor. "These could do with hanging up to dry."

"I have a washer-drier in the kitchen", offered Daniel. "You might as well clean them first." He was about to take the bundle from her, but then decided against it. It wouldn't be gentlemanly to go through her things, after all. "Here," he said, "let me show you…"

She followed him through to a smart-looking modern kitchen, the focal point of which was a large, silver refrigerator. The combination washing machine was the same colour, as were the rest of the appliances, and for some reason Betty wanted to smile. Somehow, the organised kitchen seemed very un-Daniel. She also noted that it looked like it had never been used, and resisted the urge to check the cupboards for signs of food. She suspected Daniel very rarely cooked anything, if he even knew how. The room smelled very faintly of microwave popcorn.

He had opened the machine and was peering curiously at the various dials and buttons on the front.

"Daniel?"

Her amused tone diverted his attention back to her. "I… don't really know how this works," he admitted. "My maid does all my laundry."

Betty couldn't stop herself from giggling. "You really are useless…" With that, she moved to the machine and pushed the clothes inside. She searched the cupboards for detergent and softener, found them easily, dosed the drawer, pondered the controls for a moment, and set the machine going on a short cycle.

Daniel watched this display with some amazement. "Wow. How do you know all that?"

"Sometimes, these things just need a woman's touch." And with a knowing smile, she brushed past him back into the living area.

Daniel remained in the kitchen a moment listening to the washing machine churning away, wondering once again what on earth was going on. The evening had definitely taken a very odd turn. He had all but forgotten Betty's reason for turning up in the first place, and he had somehow managed to make her stay longer than she had intended, through the most mundane of offers.

Her voice filtered through from the other room, snapping him out of his brief reverie, and he went through to join her.

"Well," she said, settling onto the couch, "since I'll have to wait a while for my stuff to wash, I may as well stay for a movie."

Daniel smiled to himself. "Any preference?"

Betty rooted through the pile of assorted DVDs on the cushions, discarding those she wasn't interested in. "No… no… nope… hmm, maybe… _definitely_ not… ooh! How about this?"

Daniel squinted at the DVD she was waving at him. "_The Green Mile_, Betty?"

"What's wrong with it?" she asked, a crestfallen expression on her face.

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Nothing, it's just a little long."

She shrugged. "I'm in no rush."

"I thought you needed to get home?"

"I do, but… oh, I'm _sure_ they'll understand. I'll call them later. Please, Daniel, I love this movie." She gazed at him pleadingly, big brown eyes all wide like a puppy's, and he was lost. With a sigh, he conceded.

"Okay, Tom Hanks it is…" She applauded with a little 'Yay', reminding him of a toddler. "But on one condition." Betty raised expectant eyebrows and he continued, "Call your father _now_, while I set it up. I don't know if I'm more scared of Ignacio or Hilda, but I don't want to give either of them a reason to think I've kidnapped you."

She knew he was right; her father would be worrying, and Hilda would be readying her viper tongue to give whoever had spirited Betty away a piece of her mind. She got up to retrieve her bag from near the door and Daniel, setting up their DVD, heard her say, "Oh, hi, Justin… is your mom there?" before she wandered into the kitchen and out of earshot. He heard a few vague snippets of conversation as she wandered aimlessly around the kitchen. "…just staying here a while… tell him not to worry… I'll be _fine_, Hilda…"

Betty came back from the kitchen as she was flipping her phone closed. She slipped it back into her bag and pulled out instead her hairbrush. As she approached Daniel and the sofa, she struggled with a particularly stubborn tangle.

"All sorted, I hope?" asked Daniel.

Betty nodded, still tugging at her hair. "Ow – yes. I think – ow! – Hilda was a little worried, but even she agreed that – _ow!_ – the weather is crazy." Finally, she managed to brush the knots out of that particular section of hair, although it wasn't long before she encountered another.

Daniel grimaced sympathetically. "That looks painful."

Betty shrugged non-committally. "It's not so bad…" Another string of pained exclamations fell from her mouth, until finally, she was able to pull the brush freely though her hair. Now that she was more certain she wouldn't accidentally hit Daniel with a flailing elbow, Betty took her place beside him on the sofa.

"Ready?"

"Mm-_hmm_," she agreed, reaching for a large handful of popcorn from a bowl on the table.

Daniel's thumb hovered a moment over the remote control's selection button, as a thought apparently struck him. "Wait, have you eaten?"

Betty shovelled another handful of popcorn in her mouth. "Not since lunchtime. Why do you ask?"

He didn't answer, just looked pointedly between Betty and the popcorn. She blushed, and slowed down, eating the pieces individually behind her hand. She hoped it looked slightly more ladylike. "I'll order something in, if you want," suggested Daniel.

"Don't go to any trouble, Daniel," she said. "You've already done too much for me tonight." Despite her selfless protest, however, her stomach rumbled loudly. Daniel laughed.

"It's no trouble, honestly. I was going to order something anyway, at least until I sat down in front of the TV. You know how it is sometimes…" Betty nodded; sometimes, even the best intentions fell apart in the face of laziness and the ever-present brain-sucking idiot box. "I think I have some menus around here somewhere…"

He began rooting around his apartment, looking in kitchen drawers and inside cupboards. Betty turned in her seat to watch him, amusement lighting up her features. Her second cry of "It's _really_ not necessary!" fell on deaf ears. Daniel finally emerged from the kitchen with an "A-ha!", triumphantly holding aloft a fan of several take-out menus, each emblazoned with their restaurants' colourful logos.

"So…" he said, sifting through them, "Chinese… Thai… Indian… Mexican… any preference?"

"A change would be nice…" she muttered, absently. "Um… Chinese sounds good."

He handed her the menu. "Order whatever you like," he said. "I'll be back in a minute."

She called out "Do you want anything?" to his retreating back as he headed for the bathroom.

"No, thanks!"

The door closed. Betty looked around for Daniel's landline and found it just next to the sofa. She stretched lazily to reach it, whilst skimming the menu for something appetising. It all sounded delicious, but her jaw dropped when she saw the prices. This was clearly the more expensive end of Chinese restaurants – but then again, she hardly expected anything less.

She knew full well that if she ordered the cheapest item on the menu, Daniel would know. She didn't want to reject his hospitality, but she wasn't the sort of person to take advantage of it, either. After a few moments of agonising, Betty found something that seemed fairly reasonably priced and dialled the number.

"Ah! Mr Meade!" cried a heavily-accented voice on the other end of the line. "What can we do for you this evening?"

Betty faltered a moment. "Hello? Is that-" she checked the front of the menu "-the Lotus Flower?"

There seemed to be a confused silence, and then the voice said, "Yes, this Lotus Flower. Why you call from Mr Meade's number?"

"Er, I'd like to order some take-out?" Betty added, by way of explanation, "Mr Meade is in the bathroom…" She wasn't sure if it would help, but she was somewhat at a loss.

"Sure thing, pretty lady," said the voice, now sounding much less suspicious. Betty rolled eyes in realisation – clearly they presumed she was one of Daniel's model girlfriends. If not, and it was just some typical unoriginal flattery, then it was an ironic coincidence. Biting back sarcasm, Betty placed her order quickly, to be assured it would be delivered within half an hour.

She replaced the telephone in its charger just as Daniel came out of the bathroom. He paused to dim the lights before moving to join her.

"They seemed to know you," she said.

"So they should, I used to order from them enough."

Betty didn't press any further; from the experience she'd just had, it seemed as though Daniel had done nothing _but _order Chinese food from the Lotus Flower. On second thoughts, though, she supposed it would have been the same for any of the menus. A man like Daniel Meade would be an important customer to keep happy.

"Okay," he said, getting comfortable, "the food should be here soon, so shall we get started?"

"Sure."

He grabbed a handful of corn chips and started the movie. As Betty settled down, curling her feet beneath her, she wondered what time it was. She had completely lost track of time since she'd arrived at the apartment, though she supposed it must be around nine by now. At the back of her mind, she worked out the length of the movie, what time it would probably be by the time it finished, and then started to wonder how on earth she was going to get home. A cab? Would Daniel get the town car to drive her back?

All of her real life worries soon melted away with the film's opening, and the light crunching coming from beside her…

_To be continued..._

**A/N: **Next chapter has a little more introspection on Daniel's part, mostly, and I'm quite proud of it. In any case, please leave some feedback on this chapter. Thank you. :)


	5. Chapter Five

**RAIN WILL MAKE THE FLOWERS GROW**

_**Summary: **__Daniel and Betty watch their movie; Daniel does some pondering._

_**A/N: **__I must apologise for the delay on posting this chapter. For some reason I decided it wasn't finished and that I didn't have time to get it done, and when I just looked at it I realised that it only needed a couple more sentences. Also, real life kind of got in the way for a while, and unfortunately writing is something of a luxury pastime for me these days... Anyway, I'm quite proud of this chapter; as far as introspection goes, I think it works well.. but obviously, that's up to you to decide. Reviews, therefore, are appreciated._

**Rain Will Make The Flowers Grow**

Chapter Five

In truth, Daniel had forgotten how good Betty's choice of movie was. It wouldn't have mattered what film they watched, though, as his thoughts were soon wandering from John Coffey and his unfortunate plight. Instead, Daniel found his senses oddly filled by the very presence of Betty. At the office, it was easier to distract himself with other matters; now that it was just he and Betty, there was really nothing else for him to focus on.

It was the scent that he noticed first. She ran a hand through her hair, raking splayed fingers like a comb, and it suddenly struck him that something was different. He had often caught wafts of her shampoo before now, and it had been pleasant and light, either fruity or vaguely nutty, like almonds. Occasionally, there was vanilla, though it was rare. Her perfume was always subtle, but distinctive, and she used it sparingly. Daniel imagined that perfume was a luxury that Betty couldn't afford to splash out on, and wondered if it would be appropriate to buy her some. Perhaps for Christmas, or a birthday. If he ever found out when her birthday was…

But tonight, Daniel realised, Betty didn't smell like Betty at all. Tonight, she smelled entirely of something else. It was her hair most of all which confused him, as it was familiar and strange all at the same time. It took him a very long time to figure out it was his _own_ shampoo, and then he felt very stupid for not realising sooner. He had to admit, the generic scent was a lot more appealing on his assistant.

He used the darkness of the apartment, and the soft glow of the television, to his advantage whenever he thought he could steal a glance without her knowing. Short glimpses were all he would allow himself. Betty would only be self-conscious if she knew he was watching her, and it was nice to see her so relaxed.

Daniel realised more about Betty in those short glances than he ever would have done by staring, almost as though he were examining snapshots of a bigger picture, little details of the larger whole. Perhaps it was the subdued lighting, or just because she was _there_, but he found himself increasingly unable to stop looking at her. She was beautiful, he suddenly realised, but in her own unique way; it was the little things that grasped his attention.

In the dark, her big, brown eyes shone as she watched the screen; he found the light playing on her glasses fascinating, even more so when her eyes moved slightly, behind the lenses. Her pupils were big and black, making her eyes seem all the larger, and her face more childlike.

There was nothing – absolutely nothing – remotely childlike about those full lips of hers, though, even as she unconsciously chewed on her lower lip. Her skin was flushed from the shower, and so smooth – he resisted the temptation to run a knuckle along her cheekbone.

_Get a grip on yourself,_ he told himself, tearing his eyes away – that last glance had become an outright stare, and she'd almost caught him. He tried to concentrate on the movie, but once his eyes were elsewhere, his other senses decided to taunt him instead.

Beside him, he could hear her soft breathing and the slight changes to her breaths as she reacted to the action on screen. She huffed indignantly at Percy's antics, and laughed lightly during the humorous parts. She crunched through the popcorn and chips absently, perhaps having forgotten about the food she'd ordered. Even when he'd blocked out the sound of her through deep concentration, he could feel her, warm, against his side.

The only sense that so far hadn't betrayed him was taste, and he was damned if she was going to invade that one, too. _ But oh,_ he thought, _if only… _He quickly reached for a handful of corn chips to try and distract from the direction his thoughts were suddenly heading, and chewed them thoroughly.

He was literally saved by the bell – or rather, the buzzer. Betty jumped; she'd been completely engrossed in the scene playing out on the DVD. Daniel placed a hand on her knee to calm her, as he got to his feet.

"That'll be your dinner," he said, and paused the DVD to unlock the door for the delivery boy. It was only afterwards, when he looked back to see Betty staring at her knee, that he realised his action had probably been a little too familiar. _She's your assistant_, he reminded himself. _And she's not just any assistant, she's __Betty_

There was a knock at the door shortly afterwards, and Daniel opened it to reveal the Lotus Flower's usual delivery boy, handing over Betty's order. Daniel paid him and closed the door, listening to the receding footsteps on the other side as he bought himself some time. He needed to get back in control of himself, and quickly. Betty would be easily scared by a foot – or a hand – out of place, and he had to ensure her boundaries weren't crossed.

Betty seemed to snap herself out of the stupor she'd fallen into when she heard him bring the meal over to her in its little cardboard box.

"Chopsticks okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, they're fine."

Daniel handed over the box and she opened it eagerly, heartily tucking into the noodles. Her chopstick skills were impressive, he noted. She was definitely a woman of hidden talents.

He sat back down beside her and pressed 'Play', and the movie jumped back to life after a brief stutter. Silence descended between them once again, and the clacking of Betty's chopsticks was enough to distract Daniel from his previously rambling thoughts. With a great effort of concentration, he managed to focus his attention back on the television set. Realising that the last half-hour or so of plot was now a complete blur, he sincerely hoped Betty wasn't expecting a post-movie discussion...

_To be continued..._

_**A/N:**__ There we go. I have no idea when the next chapter will be up. I seem to have lost the flow somewhat and I'm trying to work on a __Phantom of the Opera__ fic at the same time, but I promise to endeavour to keep on top of it. Please, R&R._


	6. Chapter Six

**Rain Will Make The Flowers Grow**

_**This chapter:**__ Er, not very much really. Betty and Daniel finish their movie, and awkwardness ensues._

_**A/N:**__ I sincerely apologise for the unacceptable delay (again) but real life sort of got in the way for a while. For some reason the advent of the new year has re-awoken my long-hibernating Muses (as "Strange Glue" will testify) so here, finally, is chapter 6._

_If anyone's still reading this – enjoy._

Chapter Six

Betty was becoming acutely aware of something quite unsettling. As if Daniel's close proximity wasn't bad enough on its own, _especially_ after that brief contact earlier, she had now remembered exactly why she liked _The Green Mile_ so much. She realised this entirely too late, as the scene in question started playing. She was tempted to feign needing the bathroom, but knew that he would only pause it until her return.

Maybe a sudden realisation that she needed to be somewhere else? No… it must be nearly midnight, perhaps later. There was nowhere she would plausibly have to go at this time of night. She would normally be asleep by now anyway. Besides, with only 15 minutes left of the epic they'd been watching, it would seem strange for her to try and leave now.

Effectively trapped on the sofa, Betty conceded to sit and watch the final few minutes of the movie. _Maybe it won't be so bad,_ she thought. After all, she'd seen the thing enough times; _surely _she'd become immune to its evil powers by now…

db

"_Please, boss, don't put that thing over my face. Don't put me in the dark. I's afraid of the dark."_

Ten minutes from the end of the film, Daniel heard a strangled sort of noise, and looked over with some alarm to find Betty in tears. He hadn't expected this, and wasn't entirely sure what to do.

"Um… are you okay?"

Betty tried very hard not to look at him. "Who, me?" she asked, a little redundantly. "I'm absolutely fine." She let out a very loud sniff.

Daniel was a little worried, as Betty was clearly _not _fine. "You don't _look _very fine," he commented.

"Really, Daniel, it's nothing… Can we just finish the movie?"

He conceded, as Betty obviously didn't want to talk about it, and returned his attention to the final few minutes of the DVD. On the screen, the assemblage of prison wardens were similarly crying their eyes out; suddenly, Daniel understood, and couldn't help the large grin which spread across his face. "Aw, look at you…"

Betty eyed him evilly. "Shut up." She sniffed again, thoroughly ruining her attempt to look serious.

"No, no, I think it's sweet. If I'd known you were so sensitive I'd have made you pick a comedy."

Betty considered that she had spotted no comedies in the pile of DVDs; only, for some reason, tough-guy action movies and dramas which were one step away from being chick flicks. Perhaps Daniel found car crashes amusing? She decided not to mention it.

"You're telling me you _didn't_ cry the first time you saw this?" she asked, somewhat sceptically.

"Oh, sure", he admitted. "The _first_ time…"

"I hate you," she said, though there was no venom in it. "I just want you to know that now, so that when I spit in your coffee tomorrow you won't be upset." Daniel tried not to laugh. "Now, please be quiet? I'd still like to enjoy the ending."

Silence fell again, as the scene changed to the elderly people's home and the old version of Tom Hanks's character finished recalling the tale. They sat quietly for a moment, and Betty stopped crying after a while, only occasionally sniffling.

Daniel reached for some of the remaining snacks. "You wouldn't really spit in my coffee, would you?"

"Daniel!"

Frustrated at the continued interruption, Betty threw a cushion in his general direction. It missed him completely, only managing to clip his arm, subsequently strewing corn chips all over the couch and most of Daniel.

"Hey…"

"Sorry," she said, looking remorseful. "It _does_ serve you right, though." As Daniel brushed crumbs from his front, she added, "I'll help you clean it up when the movie's finished."

"No, it's okay," he said, "you carry on, I'll clean up."

He got to his feet, more crumbs falling to the floor, and went to retrieve the launched cushion from where it had landed on the other side of the room, before heading towards the kitchen. Betty felt a little guilty that he was willing to miss the end of the film because she'd made a mess of his couch, but was uncertain if a second offer of help would be accepted. Daniel didn't _seem_ too annoyed with her, but it was difficult to tell…

He returned shortly afterwards with a dustpan and brush, and set about silently clearing up the debris. Betty tried very hard to focus on the movie, and even though she was certain his movements were jerky and irritated, she couldn't quite bring herself to look. He finished the job quickly and went back to the kitchen to get rid of the collected mess, returning a few seconds later to sit on the couch again.

It seemed to Betty that there had been a sudden shift in the atmosphere of the room. Where it had been comfortable before, there now seemed to be an invisible barrier between herself and Daniel, who also seemed to be sitting marginally further away from her. If felt, for all intents and purposes, like a first date which had gone horribly wrong and become awkward at the end of the night.

The film finally drew to a close, and the end credits began to roll. Betty stretched exaggeratedly and got to her feet.

"Well, that was fun," she said, possibly a little too perkily. "I should really be getting back now."

Daniel glanced at his watch. "It's nearly 1.00, Betty!" he said. "Are you sure-"

"Oh, psh!" She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "I'll be fine. Now, my clothes should be dry, so…"

"Oh. Um…" Daniel seemed to remember something. "No, they shouldn't. We forgot to set the dryer going."

Betty paused, her plan of leaving quickly suddenly thwarted. "No problem, I'll just borrow these, if that's okay?" 

"Of course it's okay," he replied, "but don't you-"

"Daniel," she interrupted, frustrated, "I really just want to get home…"

Of course she did, he figured. He was the one who had kept her away for the night, and he knew she hadn't been intending on staying so long. Of course, the long film choice _had_ been Betty's, but perhaps she just didn't like any of his other options.

"I'll make you a deal," he said. "I'll pay for a cab to get you home, _but_ you have to wait for your stuff to dry." He held out a hand for her to shake.

Betty looked at him for a moment, considering her options. It did at least seem that he wasn't annoyed with her, as she had first thought. The offer was too good to refuse, really; a cab would cost more than she could afford at this time of night, and the idea of public transport was utterly unappealing.

"Deal," she said, and shook his hand.

They lingered on the gesture, and silence fell in the room except for the music of the film's credits. Without realising he was doing it, Daniel caressed the spot where his thumb lay against her skin.

Caught in the moment, she hesitated perhaps a little too long. Daniel was staring at her in the darkness and she felt her throat go dry with sudden fear, though of what, she couldn't tell. Suddenly, she pulled her hand away, grasping it instead in her own.

"I'll… I'll just go and dry those clothes," she managed to stammer, before heading quickly towards the kitchen.

Daniel watched her retreating back as she disappeared around the corner to attend to the dryer, and let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. _Where did __that__ come from?_ he thought.

To distract himself, he set about removing the disc from the player and putting it away, then resumed channel-flicking. The choice was even less promising than it had been three hours ago, and eventually he stopped at a music channel, more for background noise than anything else.

The distant sound of Betty moving around in the kitchen finally ceased, and she came back through to the lounge, looking a little nervous. She hesitated before settling back down on the couch, and then didn't say anything, just stared blankly at the music video playing out on the screen.

Daniel needed to break the tension somehow. "Betty, um…" That was as far as he had planned, unfortunately.

"Yes?"

"I… I'm sorry about that."

"About what?" she asked.

"You know… before."

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about, Daniel."

He realised she was pretending it hadn't happened, and for the moment, he could live with that. "Uh… right, then. Never mind." He cleared his throat. "There's absolutely nothing on," he said, waving a hand towards the television.

"That's okay. I like this song."

The awkwardness definitely wasn't lifting. "Um, would you like a drink?" he asked, realising he hadn't offered her one the entire time she'd been there.

"Actually, that would be really nice, thanks." At least she was smiling again.

"Okay." He wandered off and returned a few seconds later with a glass of water, handing it to her. "I figured you weren't much of a scotch drinker."

"Water's fine…"

Betty took a sip, and Daniel was just about to sit down again when the buzzer sounded. He looked surprised for a moment and double-checked the time – yes, it was most definitely after midnight. Who on earth would be turning up at this time of night?

His assistant seemed equally surprised by this. "Expecting someone?" she asked.

"Not that I can remember," he said. "I suppose we'd better see who it is."

Her eyes widened. "Daniel! What if it's a psychopath with a chainsaw?"

He laughed. "I very much doubt he'd ring the bell, Betty."

"I suppose… just be careful."

It was a little suspicious, he supposed, but he was certain Betty's fears of a mass-murdering lunatic were misplaced. He pressed the button to open the front door of the building, and waited.

_To be continued…_

_**A/N: **Hmm, who's at the door?_

_I think there should only be one more chapter after this, which will hopefully arrive a little sooner than this one did. In the meantime, you can enjoy the third chapter of "Strange Glue" quite shortly._

_Reviews are like crack and you are all my dealers. ;)_


	7. Chapter Seven

**Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow**

_**This chapter: **__The mysterious guest is revealed and more awkwardness ensues…_

_**A/N: **__Okay, so I lied about there being one more chapter. This one included, there are three. Aren't I good to you? In the meantime, "Strange Glue" is TEMPORARILY (I cannot stress that enough!) on hiatus because I've been re-inspired to finish this one, and I don't like having two stories on the go at once. I promise to get right back on it as soon as this is over with…_

_Anyway, onwards._

Chapter Seven

They waited, and waited.

Betty hugged a cushion to herself, though it would be very little protection against an axe-wielding murderer, and Daniel stood by the door, peering through the peephole. All of a sudden, he spotted whoever was coming and ducked down out of the way.

"Shit…" he said, in a hushed whisper.

"Daniel?" Betty was quite shocked to hear him swear so violently; the situation must have been serious. "Who is it?"

"Pretend we're not here," he said, ignoring her question. "Turn the TV down."

She put on a "humour-the-crazy-man" face, but did as he asked anyway, muting the sound. "Daniel, you already buzzed whoever-it-is through the front door. It's a little late to pretend you're not in."

"Damn, you're right."

The distant sound of stiletto heels on the parquet floor of the corridor could be heard on the other side of the door. The footsteps came to a stop, and were followed by a rhythmic rapping. Daniel ignored it, keeping down.

The rapping came again, firmer, followed by a recognisably female voice. "Come on, Daniel! I know you're in there!"

Betty shrugged, none the wiser, and Daniel sighed, pulling a face, before finally opening the door to admit their mystery guest.

A tall brunette half-sauntered, half-stumbled over the threshold, clad in the anticipated stiletto heels and an incredibly short pencil skirt. She carried a half-closed, dripping umbrella in one hand, a small black handbag over her shoulder, and a definite air of superiority.

"Daniel," she crooned, making her way over. "It's been far too long."

He deftly avoided her flailing arms and stepped around her to close the door; he had an awful feeling it would take a while to get rid of her, and the last thing he needed was to cause a stir and give the neighbours a show.

"Hello, Blaine," he said, finally identifying her. This was clearly not a Miss Day-of-the-Week, but rather someone from Daniel's past whom he had expected to remain deeply buried. "What are you doing here?"

"So cold?" she asked, pouting, then tutted him. "I thought we knew each other better than that."

"Not any more," he told her. "Now – again, what are you _doing _here?"

"I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd drop by," she said, nonchalant. As yet, she had not noticed Betty sitting in the darkened lounge, who was watching the action unfold with some interest.

"You moved to LA to try and make it as an actress!" he said. "Why in the name of all that is holy are you here in New York? That's not exactly 'in the neighbourhood'!"

Blaine seemed to realise that he wasn't going to welcome her with open arms, and also that her rather poor attempt at a lie wasn't working, and became a little more serious. "I'm here for a holiday," she said. "A week or so with the girls. We were at that club you always used to go to and, well, I got a little nostalgic and thought I'd see if the old penthouse was still as welcoming as it used to be." She took in Daniel's stance: crossed arms and an unimpressed expression. "But clearly I see not."

"It was over a _long_ time ago, Blaine. Please leave."

"At least offer me a drink," she said, persuasively.

Betty's rain-induced cold chose this rather inopportune moment to make a re-appearance, and she sneezed violently. Daniel jumped; Blaine merely cast a level glance in Betty's direction. Betty gave a little self-conscious wave and emerged from the couch.

"Hi…"

Blaine looked her up and down as though examining an item in a shop, a smirk gracing her lips. She took in the clothing Betty was wrapped in – Daniel's spares – and came to the most logical conclusion for her half-drunk mind.

"I see you've moved on from the usual fodder," she said to Daniel, ignoring Betty completely. "Easier prey?"

"Get out, Blaine."

"You've definitely lowered your standards."

"I said, get out."

He calmly opened the door, but his face was like thunder. Blaine sensed the danger, at least, and stepped back through the door without argument.

"Goodbye, Daniel," she muttered, making her way towards the elevator. "Maybe we'll meet again some day."

"Yeah. Maybe." He waited until she'd boarded the elevator and the doors had slid closed before adding, "When Hell freezes over."

He slammed the door, pitching the place once more into almost total darkness, and leaned against it, head in his hands. Betty wasn't sure what to do next, if there was anything she could do at all, but luckily Daniel saved her from making a decision.

"I'm sorry about that. I had no idea she would turn up."

"Yeah, I… I figured." She swallowed nervously. "So… old girlfriend?"

The question sounded rather contrived, as the situation was clearly more complicated than that, but Daniel humoured her anyway.

"You could say that, I suppose. She was… my first Amanda, I guess. Long-term, clingy, bitchy, totally not worth the effort. I swore I'd never go back, but… well, my will power sucks." He trailed off, unsure if it was okay to be telling Betty these things. She looked at him inquisitively, and he decided to continue. "There's a reason for the one-night stands – all models are exactly like her: shallow, vain, dumb. They're easy and quick and they're everywhere in this business."

She nodded. "Yeah. I kinda… already got that, but thanks for telling me." She seemed distracted. Eventually, she said, "Daniel, you didn't correct her." Off his confused expression, she explained, "When she thought I was… that we were…" A sigh. Daniel knew what she'd thought. "You didn't correct her.

He shrugged. "Blaine doesn't need to know who or what you are."

The distant background churning of the dryer suddenly came to a stop with a click, making the silence that had fallen between them extend even further.

Betty sprang to action. "Okay, my stuff's dry now, so… I'll go and get changed and you can have these back."

She tugged at the hem of the t-shirt, then turned to head into the kitchen, but found herself stopped by Daniel's firm but gentle grip on her wrist. She turned back to face him, curious.

"You shouldn't listen to the likes of her, you know," he said softly. Betty cast her eyes to the floor, but he tilted her face back up with his other hand, forcing her to look at him. "I mean it. You're worth at least a million of all the Blaines and Amandas of this world."

She felt her heart beat grow faster and more erratic. "But…"

"Who are you going to believe?" he asked. "That drunken stick insect or me?"

She didn't know what to say. Truth be told, he was beginning to scare her a little. She figured that Daniel was probably more qualified to judge than some random vapid model, but nevertheless, it had never crossed her mind that he'd even noticed her, let alone made any comparison.

"I should really get changed."

Defeated, Daniel released her arm with a nod. After only a second, however, he followed her into the kitchen. She wasn't getting out of it that easily.

"Betty, are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, busying herself with emptying the machine.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Stock Female Response number 29, second most popular after 'I've Got A Headache'…" he muttered. "We've been here before. You can't blame the movie this time."

She bundled up the clothes, making to carry them through, but found her exit effectively blocked by Daniel. Placing the bundle on the kitchen counter, she conceded.

"Okay, I'm not fine." She huffed. "You might think that Blaine didn't need to be told who I am or what I am, but Daniel… _what_ am I?" He seemed confused. Frustrated, she clarified: "You've been making with the googly eyes all night – I saw you, so don't try and deny it – so, come on, what gives?"

A little embarrassed that she knew about his staring-by-stealth earlier on, he said, "I just… I don't know." By way of explanation, he added, "It's been a strange night."

"You can say that again…"

Daniel sat on a barstool at the island in the centre of the kitchen, somewhat defeatedly, and after a while, Betty sat opposite. Neither said anything for a long time, as Daniel tried to make sense of the situation. Betty examined the pattern in the granite worktop, tracing faults and lines with her fingertip.

The rain was coming down full pelt again, battering against the window and rattling overhead. Somehow, Betty knew he wouldn't be willing to let her go until it cleared again – assuming it ever did, of course – and her home began to feel even further away.

Without any warning at all, Daniel suddenly reached across the island to grasp her hands, covering both of her smaller ones with his own. Her head lifted in surprise, only to find him staring at her unashamedly with a completely unreadable expression on his face.

"Daniel?"

He shrugged and gave her a boyish grin. "Googly eyes…" he said, as though it explained everything.

"So I see…"

She didn't want to contemplate what time it was. Neither of them were going to be in any fit state for the important meeting tomorrow, and there was absolutely no way she was going to take minutes; rather, she would probably spend the majority of it trying to nap. She yawned, exhaustion finally setting in, and Daniel took it as a cue.

"Betty, um… why don't you stay here tonight?"

She raised both of her eyebrows high in an expression of extreme scepticism. "I can think of a few good reasons why not," she said, "one of them being you." She was only half-serious, but it had been the very first thing to pop into her head.

He tried to reassure her that his intentions innocent. "It's just… it's late, and the weather's still awful, and Queens is an awfully long way to go."

The idea did sound quite appealing – her bed was growing more and more distant – but she felt she had already overstayed her welcome as it was.

"No, you've already done far too much for me tonight…"

"…then one more thing won't hurt. I'd feel a lot better knowing you were safe here."

"I'd say safety was relative, with your reputation…" she muttered, half to herself.

"I was going to take the couch, but if you really don't trust me I'll sleep on the bathroom floor…"

She laughed. "I was kidding! And you don't have to take the couch, either, I will."

Daniel was about to speak again when he realised that she'd agreed, in passing, to stay over. Just to clarify, though, he asked, "So that's a yes?"

She was still a little hesitant. "Okay… but on one condition."

"What's that?"

"No more…" She waved a hand vaguely between them, struggling to find a word. "…weirdness."

He gave a nod, but decided not to seal the pact with a handshake after the last time. "Deal. No more weirdness." Having said that, he wasn't entirely sure how to achieve it, short of ignoring her all evening. Getting to his feet, he announced that he was going to find spare blankets and pillows, and that she was taking the bed whether she liked it or not.

Betty remained in the kitchen, deciding not to argue with him. Her pile of clean, dry clothes mocked her silently from the countertop. All this because of a sneeze in the subway station…

_To be continued…_

_**A/N: **__Okay, clearly this is not the final chapter. :P I started writing this the other night with the full intention of finishing it off, but then it wrote itself out of control. I anticipate maybe two more chapters and then it's definitely finishing…_

_The next chapter is good, trust me. :)_


	8. Chapter Eight

**Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow**

_**This chapter: **__Ah, now... that would be telling. :D_

_**A/N: **__This is definitely the penultimate chapter. It seemed much longer in my head when I was writing it, but I think that's because I imagined the pace being a lot slower and I'm a little out of practice at putting that across... Anyway, no matter._

_I have no idea where this even came from, but it does mean that I managed to combine the two different endings I wanted to do – this was nearly going to be a 'pick your own ending' story. ;)_

_This has a very different feel to it compared to the end of the third chapter of "Strange Glue", although it has some similar elements, so I hope you enjoy the contrast. It's all very clichéd, but I like cliché. Have fun; I know I did…_

Chapter Eight

Half an hour and a debate later, Betty had finally conceded that Daniel could sleep adequately enough for one night on his sofa. Considering there weren't that many hours of sleep left to be had, it didn't matter too much in the scheme of things. He had even offered her a spare toothbrush. 

She finished her nightly ablutions and headed for the bedroom, where Daniel had swiftly tidied up the mess after the shameful state of his bathroom earlier in the night, and then vacated the area again. She found, in addition, the sheets turned down and the pillows fluffed, implying he was more house-proud than he made himself out to be. She half-expected to find mints on the pillows, then remembered where she was.

Betty closed the door, leaving it just slightly ajar for the moment. Before getting into bed, she struggled to remove her necklace. For some reason, her fingers absolutely refused to cooperate, and after five minutes or so of cursing, Daniel came to see what was wrong.

He knocked politely on the door, and then stuck his head into the room.

"Need any help?"

"If you wouldn't mind…" She indicated the clasp, holding her hair out of the way and sweeping it over her shoulder.

Daniel had to lean a little closer to see what he was doing, as the room was unlit except for the glow from the television in the other room and the distant lights on the street below. In such close proximity, with the scent of her hair once again assailing his senses, it was all he could do to resist kissing the nape of her neck. His breath tickled the top of her spine, causing her to squirm.

"Careful," he reprimanded her. "I nearly broke it…"

Eventually, the clasp worked free and Betty, effectively released from its chain, turned to face Daniel. It was something of a relief, as she wasn't sure how her sanity would hold out with him breathing down her neck, or the timbre of his voice so close to her skin. She had felt her spine turn to jelly and was sure she would have gone weak at the knees.

He pooled the chain in one hand and dropped it into her outstretched palm. She carefully placed it on the bedside table with the rest of her stuff: phone, hairbrush, handbag.

"Thanks…" she said.

They were standing close, perhaps too close, with Betty having to crane her neck to face him. It seemed their earlier pact had been broken; she was now as guilty of the 'googly eyes' as he had been.

The moment felt charged as though an electric current were running beneath their feet, as if something might explode or catch fire any second. Daniel radiated heat; Betty felt chilled. The rain ran rivulets down the window-pane, droplets racing each other, as the soft pitter-patter continued. The glow of the television in the other room cast bizarre light patterns on the wall, throwing the room into alternating states of light and dark.

Betty's heart was going insane, but then, so was she. Daniel's gaze had not left her own the entire time. He raised a hand to sweep a stray lock of hair behind her ear to join the rest. It was still slightly damp from her shower, chilling her back and shoulders.

His hand lingered just a fraction of a second too long before he pulled it away again, and he sighed, a long, heavy sigh that almost sounded full of longing.

"Betty…" he said, cutting through the silence, "I don't think I've ever said this to anyone before, but…" He swallowed, suddenly more nervous than he could ever remember; his next words sounded stupid in his head, but if he didn't say them, he would never know. "Would it be out of line to ask if I could kiss you?"

She stared at him for a moment, and then reacted. The question seemed to push her completely over the edge of reason, although she couldn't tell whether it was his lost-puppy expression or the fact that he'd _asked_ her about it which had been the final kicker. Whatever it was, the next thing Betty knew she had launched herself at Daniel, lips crashing against his in a bruising kiss that took them both by surprise.

Daniel staggered backwards from the impact of her small frame colliding with his, coming to a stop at the nearest wall. His arms snaked around her as she grabbed onto his shoulders to pull him down to her level – her usual trick, he noted, although ordinarily it would be to hug him, not kiss him senseless.

The madness seemed to loosen its grip very swiftly. Betty relaxed, her grip relieving on his shoulders, but the impromptu kiss, if anything, only seemed to deepen into something more meaningful. Meaningful of what, however, neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

Betty felt the last shred of her sanity disappear, and with it any semblance of reality. She reached up on her tip-toes, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulled her protectively closer.

Daniel was still reeling from the contact by the time he'd realised what was happening. Of all the various ways this particular scene had played out in his mind, Betty attacking him had been very bottom of the list.

He knew they needed to stop. Betty's initial feverishness had devolved quickly into something he didn't want to consider, something he'd outright _avoided_ considering all night, and he suspected he was going to have to be the intelligent one. With every ounce of his remaining will-power, Daniel managed to pull away from her just enough to break the contact. She seemed to come to her senses a little, her arms drifting back down and her hands coming to rest against his chest. Daniel, worried she might collapse as she seemed so out of sorts, kept his arms around her for a moment.

Her hair, he noted with some irony, had fallen back into her face. He placed another soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment, before trying to speak.

"Betty…"

The sound of his voice finally broke through her stupor and she jumped away from him as if scalded.

"Oh my God…" She covered her face with her hands. "Oh my… I'm so sorry."

He almost laughed; why was she _apologising_? "You don't need to-"

"I have to go." She rushed to find her possessions, grabbing them and running to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

"… apologise."

_To be continued…_

_**A/N: **__Don't hurt me. There won't be much of a wait for the next chapter, and this WILL have a happy ending, I promise._

_Let me know what you thought of this chapter, anyway. I wasn't sure how it would be received as it kinda came out of nowhere when I was writing it._

_The rating isn't going to change, incidentally. Sorry about that. :P_


	9. Chapter Nine

**Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow**

_**This chapter: **__Betty freaks out, and Daniel tries to save the day._

_**A/N: **__Okay, here we go, the final chapter. Another fairly long one that wrote itself when I wasn't paying attention, so I apologise, once again, for any weirdness. Hopefully everyone will like my ending, even though it didn't quite pan out how I intended it… darn those Muses._

_Enjoy!_

Chapter Nine

Betty dressed as quickly as she could in the small bathroom, her mind reeling, and muttered a mantra to herself.

"I kissed Daniel, ohmygod I kissed Daniel…"

She didn't know what had come over her. She didn't even realise she felt that way about Daniel, but the urge to kiss him had come out of nowhere and taken over her more logical senses.

She was absolutely convinced she'd made a terrible mistake. What would Daniel think of her now? She was always projecting the image of being a good girl, a sensible person, and she outright, plain-as-day jumped on him, for no good reason. It wasn't just that he was her friend; he was her _boss_, her superior, the person who paid her wages and who she would have to face every day, both of them knowing what had happened this rainy night in his apartment.

She blamed the Chinese food. All the MSG. Some people had asthma attacks, she had hormone attacks. It was the only explanation.

Betty pulled on her cardigan and looked at herself in the mirror. Her skin was flushed and her lips were slightly swollen, the realisation of which only made her blush even more. There was no way she'd be able to hide this from Hilda. Even if and when the external symptoms disappeared, Hilda would just _know_. And then Betty would never hear the end of it.

She contemplated staying in the bathroom until he fell asleep, then sneaking out quietly… but that was a cowardly way to go about things, really. It wasn't as if Daniel was going to hurt her; she just couldn't face him. He would want to talk about it, and Betty just wanted to forget it had ever happened so that life could continue as normal.

The thought of that made her laugh bitterly. Things were _never_ going to be normal now.

db

In the silence, Daniel tried to figure out what on earth had just happened, not just in the last five minutes, but all evening. Betty had been driving him slowly crazy all night, and he had no idea why. It seemed, given the circumstances, she'd driven herself pretty crazy, too.

He spotted something glinting out of the corner of his eye, and realised she'd forgotten her necklace, the object which had caused the problem in the first place. He pocketed it to give back to her later. All he could do for the moment was wait, and hope that when she re-emerged from the bathroom things wouldn't be too difficult. The longer she remained in there, however, the less likely that was starting to seem.

Daniel wandered through to the lounge, awaiting Betty's return. He killed time and tried to distract himself by watching the music channel that had been playing since the end of the movie, and noted with an ironic smirk that the song currently playing was Cher's "Shoop Shoop Song".

He hoped she wasn't hiding in there until he gave up and left her alone, because that wouldn't solve anything. Not that there was anything to solve, as far as he was concerned. Betty had made her feelings quite obvious, even if she hadn't realised it yet. They just needed to talk things through, but he had a feeling she wouldn't be particularly willing to do that.

_Mode_ would certainly be a party when everyone found out. It wasn't a case of 'if'. Somehow, even gossip which hadn't been told in the first place managed to spread like wildfire, quicker once Amanda or Marc got hold of it. Daniel could take it in his stride, but he worried about Betty's reputation, not to mention the sniping she would receive from the magazine's receptionist. One thing was for definite: his father could _not_ find out. The last thing Daniel needed was Betty being fired for something so innocent.

His thoughts were interrupted by the bathroom door opening slowly. Betty re-emerged, dressed in the clothing she'd arrived in. Daniel's t-shirt, sweatpants and socks were folded neatly into a square, which she held out to him, not meeting his eyes. She cleared her throat awkwardly to indicate he should take them, and Daniel obliged, unsure if he should break the permeating silence. Once free of the spare clothes, Betty stepped away to collect her coat – it was still a little damp, but would do – and shrugged into it.

Daniel finally spoke. "Please don't go." She ignored him, heading for the door. She had one hand on the doorknob when he said, "Don't you think we should talk about this?"

Just as she'd anticipated. "No," she said, firmly. "There's nothing to talk about."

She opened the door, and stepped out, heading quickly towards the elevator and pressing the call button a few times.

Daniel cursed lightly, dropped the clothes on the floor, and went after her. Luckily, the elevator had to travel from the ground floor, buying him some time.

"There's plenty to talk about," he told her, attempting to continue the conversation.

"I already apologised, Daniel." She sighed. "Can we please just forget it?"

"We most certainly can not." Betty looked away from him, staring at the sliding doors. "And I have no idea why you felt the need to apologise, Betty. That kiss was-"

"Nothing," she interrupted. "It was nothing. It should never have happened."

The elevator finally arrived and she stepped inside, squeezing through the doors before they were even fully open. She pressed the button for the lobby repeatedly, trying to shut the door before Daniel could follow her, but her attempt was futile.

She tried to stand as far away as possible, but the room was small.

Daniel wanted to make things right again, and tried to take the burden from her. "Betty, look, it was my fault really. I've been acting weird all night and I probably shouldn't even have asked like I did, but you…" _'You drive me crazy'_, he almost said, but thought better of it. It was the last thing she would want to hear.

"It's _my_ fault, Daniel," she argued. "I should have just brought the notes and left like I meant to." Then she seemed to change her tactic. "But then you" – she narrowed her eyes and pointed at him – "_you_ with your stupid chivalry had to go and invite me in and be the perfect gentleman all night. You're right, it _is_ all your fault." She crossed her arms defensively.

"Oh, okay, next time I'll let you go back out in the rain to catch pneumonia."

Her expression was supremely unimpressed, and Daniel tried to steer the conversation elsewhere before it turned into a full-scale argument. "Look, we can't just forget it. _You_ might be able to pretend it never happened, but I don't have that luxury." She gave him a sceptical look, and he explained, "As first kisses go, that was _really_ something."

Betty turned a deep shade of red and looked away. After a moment, she said quietly: "And what about last kisses?"

His face fell; for a moment he thought he'd broken through her barriers. He raked both hands through his hair and leaned against the wall of the elevator car. "Don't do this to me, Betty."

"Do what?"

"You _know_ what. Don't build me up with a promise of something and then destroy it. You of all people should know better than to do that to me."

Betty's chest compressed with guilt. Of course, he was referring to Sofia, to his father, to anyone and everyone who had ever let him down. She finally managed to face him for the first time since running out, but he was staring at the ceiling in despair, seemingly appealing to heaven.

The elevator pinged and came to a stop, the doors opening to reveal the lobby. The security guard was still fast asleep, for which Betty was grateful. There might be a scene, and she didn't want an audience. Daniel looked down; Betty looked away.

They stepped out of the elevator simultaneously. Betty reached the glass front doors of the building and paused. The rain was torrential, but she couldn't wait for it to stop.

"I've got to go home," she said, with finality. "And you should try and sleep. You've got that meeting tomorrow."

"It's cancelled," he said. "I'm giving us both the day off."

She smiled a little at the thoughtful gesture, even though Wilhelmina would doubtless be on the warpath about it when she found out.

"I had a really nice time tonight," she told him, and meant it. "At least until… you know. But I need to go now."

He sighed, knowing he couldn't hold on to her any longer. "I know you do."

"Goodnight, then."

"'Night."

Betty opened the door and stepped out into the night. The doors swung shut behind her and Daniel went up to them, watching her until she disappeared from view. He watched the rain, his breath steaming up the glass, and put his hands in his pockets.

db

Betty was soaked to the bone already. She took out her cell phone to check the time, and instead saw three missed calls and a voicemail alert. She played back the message, and Hilda's voice spoke urgently.

"Learn to answer your phone, Betty! Sheesh! I guess you're staying over at Daniel's, so… _[a sigh_ Papi's going crazy with worry, you should have called. I told him you were in safe hands. So, anyway, I guess we'll see you tomorrow. Be good. Love ya."

The message ended. Those two words, "be good", kept ringing in her ears. She had been good: a good assistant, a good friend, even a good kisser, if Daniel was to be believed. But she'd ultimately failed at the last hurdle. She hadn't been good _enough_. She'd left Daniel in the lurch after he'd been nothing but polite and kind all evening – he'd even done the right thing and stopped the kiss before it got out of hand.

There was clearly something between them that she'd failed to notice before. Daniel had been acting strangely all night, and she'd hardly been the pinnacle of normality either. If there was a chance… didn't she owe to him to at least _try_?

She stopped in her tracks and turned around, marching back towards the apartment complex. It would take hours to get home anyway, and she doubted she would get any sleep even when she got there. Right at that moment, she just wanted to be right back in Daniel's apartment, cosy under a blanket, warm and safe in his arms like she'd felt for that brief moment before she'd come to her senses…

She rounded a corner, and stopped in her tracks.

"Daniel?!"

He was at the end of the block, without a coat, obviously having chased after her without a thought for the weather. He came to a stop when she shouted and peered through the sheet of rain to make sure it was really her. He was completely soaked through, not to mention slightly blue from the cold.

They stared at each other for a moment, each of them taking a few steps forward.

"What are you _doing_?" called Betty.

Daniel put his hand in his pocket and pulled out her necklace. "You forgot this," he said in a daze.

She stared stupidly at the necklace dangling from his hand, then met his gaze again. Then she broke into a run. Daniel met her with open arms, sweeping her as close to him as possible when she was near enough, practically lifting her off the ground.

She looked up, and kissed him again, once, short and firm.

"I'm sorry," she said, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the downpour. "Not for the kiss. I'm sorry for freaking out, and I'm sorry for running away." Daniel didn't answer her. "Can I still stay tonight?"

Daniel had forgiven her the moment he'd seen her at the end of the block. He was only glad it was raining so much that she couldn't see the tears coursing down his face. He hadn't expected to find her so quickly, much less for her to come running into his open arms, and the relief was utterly overwhelming.

"Of _course_ you can," he said, his voice hoarse and cracked. "And I'm sorry too. I should never have said anything. And I'm sorry about Blaine, and for making fun of you during the movie."

She couldn't believe he'd just apologised for _that_, of all things, and started to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Her infectious laughter set Daniel off, too. The pair stood there, giggling helplessly and dripping wet, until the hysteria finally burnt itself out.

Daniel waited until they had both calmed down, and then became more serious. He stroked her face, brushing droplets of water from her cheek. The storm had passed again for a while, replaced by a lighter drizzle, and Daniel was glad he didn't have to shout any more. What he was about to say needed a calm, quiet tone, even though he would happily have screamed it from the rooftops.

"I love you, Betty."

Her eyes grew comically wide, but she didn't seem scared by this revelation. "No you don't, Daniel." Her tone was light, as if to humour a small child.

"Of course I do. Why else would I say it?"

She placed a hand to his forehead; it was incredibly warm, despite the chill in the air. "Because you have a raging temperature and are more than likely delirious," she said, forcefully. "Come on, we need to get you inside."

Betty dragged him by the hand back towards the apartment building, as quickly as she could on the slippery pavement. He needed a blanket and some dry clothes and a warm drink. Soup would do fine, coffee if not… That was assuming Daniel's kitchen had any of the above.

Daniel didn't argue with her; he knew better than to take all-action-Betty lightly.

They reached the building shortly afterwards and Betty let them in, as Daniel's hands were too cold to punch in the code. Thanks to their earlier journey, they didn't have to wait for the elevator, and the short trip to his apartment was soon over.

Daniel had left the door open in his haste to follow her earlier. Once they were inside, Betty closed it after her and immediately gathered up the clothing he'd given her, handing it to him.

"Dry off and put those on. No argument. I'm going to make you a hot drink."

He obeyed. Betty busied herself in the kitchen, searching through the cupboards. As she'd anticipated, they were practically empty except for the basics: bread, non-perishables. She found some coffee and a mug, and some milk in the fridge, and by the time Daniel had changed, his coffee was ready.

She sat him down on the couch and wrapped him up in the blanket he'd been intending to sleep under, then handed him the coffee.

"What would I do without you?" he asked.

"Honestly? It doesn't bear thinking about."

He sipped the coffee gratefully. "Just as well I gave us the day off," he said, already starting to feel the rawness that accompanied a sore throat and subsequent cold. "This is going to hurt tomorrow."

"Well, if you _will_ go chasing after me in the middle of a storm…"

She sat beside him. The music channel which had accompanied their evening had switched to late-night jazz, the songs sandwiched between a bespectacled man reading introductions and information about the artists. It was brainless and soothing.

"I'm not delirious, you know."

Betty knew that, of course, but some part of her was still a little reluctant to accept Daniel's earlier admission. "Perhaps not," she said with a smile. "But you _are_ probably contagious, so we'll have to hold off on the big, romantic kissing scene."

He looked a little downtrodden, but it was ruined by his smirk. "Now, that's just not fair." He took a deep breath. "Especially when my shirt smells of you…"

Betty felt herself blush, then shudder, though she couldn't place if the latter was because of the cold, or something else. Daniel seemed to notice, indicating for her to join him under the blanket. She obliged willingly, snuggling against his side, and they sat together relishing in the first comfortable silence of the evening. Daniel rested his cheek against her hair, not minding that it was damp once again, and sighed contentedly.

"So…" said Daniel.

"So…" said Betty.

"Is this a… thing?"

"A thing?" she repeated, amused.

"A _thing_ thing. You and me."

"That word you're struggling to find is 'relationship'." Her tone was light, but then turned more serious. "And I don't know. Right now, in this moment, I want to say yes, but… in the light of day, everything might have changed."

"In that case," he suggested, "we should enjoy it while it lasts."

They looked at each other. Daniel's eyes were dark and serious, and the expression Betty had previously thought unreadable was now as plain as day. He started to draw in a little closer, and she let him, for once unafraid of the consequences. Their second kiss was soft and slow and full of promise, and when they finally drew apart again, Betty was struck with the thought that this was exactly how it should have been before. It was too late to take it back; the earlier kiss had happened, and the outcome would have been the same either way.

"I don't want this night to end," she told him in a whisper, suddenly fearful that once the storm had passed, the spell would be broken. "I don't want to go back."

"I know." Daniel couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Just in case," she murmured, "I want you to know that… I'm not delirious, either."

It took him a while to figure out what she meant, but then he smiled. Betty, once she was content that he understood, finally allowed herself to succumb to her exhaustion, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder. Daniel pulled the blanket further up to cover her, and watched the jazz guitarist on the television. The rain continued to fall outside, but Daniel could only thank it for bringing Betty to his door.

He hoped that Betty was wrong, that the moment would not change as soon as the sun came up. Perhaps they were both insane, or dreaming, or both, and perhaps if the weather had been better, this might never have happened. But for now, she was sleeping peacefully, nestled against his side, and if everything changed in the cold light of morning, they would have this night and this rainstorm, and every rainstorm to come.

Daniel placed a soft kiss to the top of her head. Perhaps if he stayed awake, the magic would remain. As soon as he thought it, though, he knew it was impossible. A yawn escaped; his eyes grew heavy. Within a few more minutes, he was asleep.

By sunrise, the skies were clear.

_**- THE END -**_

_**A/N: **__Altogether now: awwww… I'm not sure if that's a happy or sad ending, really… I was suddenly struck with the idea that their strange night had a certain magic to it which might only remain as long as the rain kept falling, so I wanted the final section to be a bit cryptic…_

_I already have an idea for an epilogue / companion piece to this which will play on that same ambivalence of the ending – keep an eye out for something with a similarly-themed title at some point in the very near future. In the meantime, you have the rest of "Strange Glue" to look forward to. :)_

_If you enjoyed it, let me know._


End file.
